


Tell Me I'm An Angel (Take This To My Grave)

by immistermercury



Series: tell me!verse [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (I'm the author what did you expect), (it's not an au, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Play, Just you wait - Freeform, M/M, Praise Kink, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs, but plot twist, freddie is the stripper, freddie is very comfortable with himself, freddie just strips alongside being in the band), jim is having an identity crisis, jim meets freddie at heaven, jim then meets freddie again at a strip club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-10-25 21:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immistermercury/pseuds/immistermercury
Summary: Kensington, 1981. Freddie wants to be wanted, wants all the eyes in the room on him, wants everyone to watch him rock his hips in that seductive way. He loves the power that comes with it, the way that he could have anybody in the room if he wanted to. Jim meets him first in Heaven, then again in The Fire Station. He doesn't want to fall for this man, so saccharine sweet, threatening everything he thinks he knows about himself. Destiny works in strange ways.ORFreddie works as a strip artist between tours. Of course, sleeping with clients is very unprofessional, and he would never dream of it. At least, he wouldn't until a handsome Irishman starts trying to get his attention.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Another prologue? You bet! I hope you're ready for another wild ride. Prepare yourselves for a portrayal of Fred and Jim as you've never seen them before - this is the sleazy underworld of London's gay bars. Quite a few of these chapters will be explicit, so look out for any warnings. Also, just to help you picture - if you've ever seen Freddie in the "All American Boy" shirt, that's what I'm envisioning.

Jim brought one hand to the man’s cheek, leaning in close to kiss him for the first time. He was a regular at Heaven, never seen without the flushed spots on his cheeks from having fucked in the bathroom. Jim had been mesmerised by him since the beginning; he was dark haired, dark eyed, so slim. He’d longed to get his hands on that waist, to pin him against the wall, to hear those noises that he’d overheard in the bathroom. He was an enigma, seemingly ever-present in gentle touches to his waist, his loud laugh from across the bar, and yet so far away at the same time.

 

He was a firefly, burning brightly, and Jim had his wings pinned down.

 

He’d waited so long to kiss him, to finally feel those lips against his own, to own a little part of a man so variable in his partners. Half the time he was pinned, the other times he was pinning, hands always pushing and pulling everyone into the places that he wanted.

 

Those hands came up to Jim’s shoulders, squeezing tightly as he ducked away from the kiss. He smirked at Jim’s frustration, and anger flared up in Jim. He treated this as if it were some kind of game. “Not so fast, darling.”

 

Jim slid his hands up the man’s arms, pinning them back against the wall, rendering him helpless. He wanted control, wanted every part of the man against him, and he wouldn’t give up that easily. “Let me go.” The voice was dangerous, and Jim met the other man’s eyes.

 

“No.” His voice was firmer than he intended, accompanied by a tightening of his grip around those wrists. He’d gone from a man turned on by being dominated by larger man to one obsessing over the jut of bones, over sharp cheekbones and long legs that he could wrap his hand around. He leaned in to kiss him again, being rejected this time by a tilt of the head that left his lips ghosting against soft skin.

 

“I said, let me go.” The voice came again, and it frustrated Jim further. He’d waited so long to be here, so long to finally have his hands on the enigma, to smother it and to make sense of it. He didn’t like men that grabbed his attention and then wouldn’t play ball. He pulled back, glancing over the man in front of him, taking in every part of his appearance. He wore a fur coat, open and exposing his chest, proudly showing the love bites that decorated his skin. His jeans were tight, emphasising every curve and contour of his body. “I don’t know where you get off on this, but I suggest you change your ideas if you want to keep your balls where they are.”

 

He ducked away as soon as Jim loosened the grip on his wrists, smirking as he popped the collar of his jacket. “I know I’m irresistible, darling, but I’m not some kind of fuck-toy.” Jim let his eyes slide down to the man’s ass in those jeans. “You don’t even know my name.”

 

Jim reached out and grabbed the man’s wrist. He pulled him back, strong hands coming back up to his shoulders. “Don’t be difficult, baby.” He murmured in his ear, pulling him close, the man’s back to his chest. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

The man laughed, letting those large hands run over his bare chest and down to his belt. “You’ll do no such thing.” He insisted, smacking his hands away as Jim worked over the fastening on his trousers. “You’ll do nothing like it until you know who I am.”

 

Jim growled then, pushing him away roughly. The man put his hands out to break his fall, twisting over to look at the man looming over him. “You need to get over yourself.” Jim said roughly, pushing him onto the floor with a boot on his chest.

 

“Why would I need to do that?” The voice below him was wrecked, so obviously getting off on being treated like this if his cock straining against his jeans was anything to go by. “You want me either way, darling. Where’s the fun if I just suck you off without a fight?” He got up slowly, standing with his back to the wall.

 

Jim pulled him close by the collar, pressing their lips together forcefully. The man below him returned the kiss full force, bringing his hands up to pull at Jim’s hair and he groaned, grabbing the man’s ass. They were aggressive, each fighting for control, the kiss becoming progressively messier.

 

The kiss seemed to last hours until the stranger pulled away. He was completely fucked already, his hair and makeup a mess. “That’s as much as you’re getting.” He pushed Jim away carefully, walking over to the door. “Come back when somebody’s told you who I am.” He smirked, leaving the room quickly.

 

Jim glanced over himself in the mirror; his hair was tangled, lips bitten red from the force of the kiss, obviously flushed from arousal. He wasn’t sure where this desire to dominate had come from, the desire to hold another man down until he saw stars. It was so animalistic, such a base desire.

  
He swiped a thumb along his lower lip, looking at the cherry red lip gloss that stained his skin. He had never been one for effeminate men; he’d felt that they made a mockery of the community, that they distracted from the real gay men, the ones like himself. He had never liked the ones that wore makeup, that wore women’s clothes, that experimented with the lines where male ended and female began. He felt like it threatened his sense of identity; he was a gay man, he was into other men, he didn’t want to suddenly have a sexuality crisis over lingerie and mascara.

 

He brought his thumb up to his mouth, swirling his tongue over the berry flavour. It was so artificial, saccharine chemicals, and yet it tasted so addictively of the stranger. The man threatened everything that he thought he was, threatened the attraction that he had for big men, threatened his strict ideology surrounding what made a man.

 

Slim legs, easy to grip in one hand. Short hair, curled at the endsl. Honey-sweet lips. Dark eyes, rimmed with kohl, his eyelashes so long as they batted against his cheeks. His skin soft when Jim cupped his cheeks for a kiss. Lanky body hidden in the depths of the fur that he wore. A thin waist; he wanted to see how much of his waist he could completely encircle in both of his hands.

 

Jim glanced at himself again in the mirror, brushing a piece of hair from his face as he straightened out his jeans. He reasoned with himself, trying to tell himself that this didn’t change anything, that one stranger didn’t define his identity.

 

He sucked on his lip, a rush of sugar-sweet-chemical flooding his tongue.

 

Bullshit. This changed everything.


	2. Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those hands just feel so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a wait it's been for this! If you're not into sexual content (implied or explicit) then this really isn't the fic for you - this whole chapter is a literal sin.

Freddie loved to be a princess, to be treated like royalty, bought drinks and lavished in attention. He loved random kisses to his head, arms around his middle, being picked up as though he weighed nothing and sat on the bar like a trophy. He loved to be manhandled, made to feel small, light, easy, desirable. He loved the battle that men had to make him submit, and the others that knew exactly what would have him on his knees in seconds. He felt as though he had ‘brat’ branded across his chest, a label he wore with pride. He was a brat, a princess, a beautiful little doll that moved so gracefully under the right fingers.

 

He turned his head when he felt hands on his waist, gripping him so firmly yet so carefully. Men that weren’t afraid of his waist were his favourites; so many would grab his hips instead, scared to lust over such a small body, positively effeminate. The hold was so secure, cutting Freddie off from the rest of the world, clutching him in that way that made him feel so tiny yet so powerful.

 

He met the eyes of the big, burly bear that he’d been teasing a few days ago, and bit his lower lip subconsciously. The strength of his hands, their size on his body, made Freddie feel all sorts of ways; he preferred big men, the ones that give him what he deserved, what he needed.

 

“Freddie Mercury.”

 

The voice in his ear was low, and Freddie shivered. He pressed his back to the man’s chest, warmth flooding through him. Freddie had had his eye on this man for the longest time, had worked so hard for so long to get his attention; a little teasing had been on the cards. Sometimes, teasing a man was the easiest way to know that your feelings were reciprocated.

 

“You found me.” Freddie murmured in response as lips met his jawline. One hand came up to the stranger’s hair as kisses trailed along the back of his neck; the stranger played him like a perfectly tuned instrument, his strings wound so tight from the excitement and the possibilities. The other hand found the ones at his waist, pressing down just a little.

 

Freddie could barely contain himself as those hands squeezed him tighter. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Freddie’s voice was breathless as he tilted his head to the side. Those lips trailed over his jaw again, back towards his lips. Freddie chased them mindlessly when they were close enough, but the stranger pulled away too quickly.

 

He wanted to feel those lips again, wanted to submit to them this time, wanted to feel what the man could do to him given half a chance.

 

The stranger looked pleased at Freddie’s reaction. “You said to come back when somebody told me who you are. You’re Freddie Mercury.” Freddie turned around quickly and let himself be pinned against the bar. “You’re the lead singer of Queen. You live in Kensington.” He leaned in close to Freddie’s ear. “You’re a brat.”

 

Freddie gripped the bar behind him and grinned. “Are you up for the challenge, darling?” He let his hands run down the stranger’s front, feeling the firmness of muscle under his shirt.

 

The stranger almost groaned at how he looked underneath him. Bent back over the bar, lips parted, cheeks red. Leather trousers, clinging to every curve of his body; tank top hugging his chest. He’d never been more ready for anything in his life.

 

Instead of answering, he pinned those wrists back against the bar and leaned in to kiss him. Freddie gasped, but he kissed back eagerly, fighting for the slightest hint of control that he could have. Jim bit his lower lip, playing rough, and Freddie parted his lips instantaneously.

 

It was as though this man had researched the ways to make him sing.

 

The stranger felt a wash of pride run through him when Freddie stopped trying to move, surrendered himself completely. He let go of his wrists, instead bringing a hand to those short curls, brushing his fingers through the hair gently.

 

Freddie was so lost in the sensations, but he brought his arms around the back of the neck of the stranger to hold him closer, to keep him there. 

 

Jim pulled away first, just to watch the way that he knew Freddie would chase the kiss. “Don’t whine at me.” His voice made excitement leap in Freddie’s throat. “You need to breathe, angel, don’t blame me.”

 

A blush crossed Freddie’s cheeks at the nickname, and the stranger grinned. “You like that name?” He asked softly. “God, you’re so easy, angel. Do you just open your legs to any man that comes along and calls you pretty?” He pressed a kiss to Freddie’s throat. “Hm?”

 

“You’re filthy.” Freddie replied breathlessly. It was more of an invitation to continue than an order for him to stop. 

 

“You’re not complaining.” The stranger smirked, bringing his hands back down to that waist. “You don’t even know my name.”

 

Freddie looked up at him, all big doe eyes and flushed cheeks. “What is it?” He asked, suddenly so desperate to know.

 

The stranger grinned, pressing another kiss to his lips. He wanted to mark him, to make him remember who it was that drove him to insanity. “Jim. Jim Hutton.”

 

“Jim.” A devilish twinkle suddenly sparkled in his eye and he averted his gaze quickly, biting his lip demurely. “Or should I call you daddy?” He slipped a hand up to cup Jim’s jaw.

 

Playing with these men was like playing Russian roulette, except there were five bullets and one blank. To be on their good side was to be fucked into next week, until he’d lost his mind from the pleasure, until he couldn’t feel his fingers or his toes. To be on their bad side was to feel the power of those hands that he adored over his body, to push it too far and receive a few unwanted bruises for his troubles.

 

Jim pressed a kiss to the inside of Freddie’s wrist and smirked. “You can call me daddy if you’d like to, angel.”

 

In his voice was a promise, Freddie was sure. There was a promise of more to come, of long evenings with longer nights, thick fingers and hot mouths and hands tied to the headboard. 

 

Freddie pulled him in again, as enticing as a siren and as dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're ready for a wild ride.


	3. Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't where he was expecting to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so we're all on the same page - a lot of male strippers shave/wax (especially if they go for the whole femme act) their bodies hence why Freddie is a soft baby.

The body next to Jim’s was intoxicatingly warm, dragging him back towards a sleep that felt so enticing. He stretched a little, feeling the bump of his hand against a sharp collarbone, and smiled despite himself. He didn’t often bring strangers home, but Freddie had been so stunning that he’d barely taken a moment to consider the move.

 

He heard the softest little huff of breath from the man next to him, who curled up closer to his chest and rested a hot cheek against his bare skin. Jim skimmed his fingers over his torso, feeling the gentle bump of each of his ribs and the slight hollow of his stomach. He looked so radiant in the morning sunshine, the gold light painting geometric patterns on his skin. Jim pressed an absent-minded kiss to the top of Freddie’s head, delighting in the curve of a smile that he could feel pressed to his skin.

 

He felt a lightness in his chest, a warmth that promised him that maybe this time, this could be the one.

 

“What happened last night?” Freddie’s voice was rough with sleep, but as he pushed himself closer Jim caught a glimpse of the smile on his face. It was a long time since he’d had a partner that hadn’t ushered him out of the door after they’d finished. He yawned and stretched out, languid and happy amongst the soft mattress and the heavy blanket.

 

“You chugged a full bottle of red wine at the bar. I think I lost you after that.” Jim grinned and ran his fingers through Freddie’s hair. “It was impressive. You were wearing white and you didn’t get anything on your shirt.”

 

Freddie laughed sleepily and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. “Years of practice, darling.” He grinned and sat up next to Jim, one large hand on the smooth skin of his thigh. “It was a good job that I had you to look after me.” His voice was soft, so much softer than it had been the night before, but the guise of innocence snapped when a cheeky grin appeared on his face. “How was the sex?”

 

Jim smacked his skin lightly and Freddie squealed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Jim looked up at Freddie. “I wasn’t going to fuck you when you could barely walk straight. You were practically asleep on me as soon as we got through the door.”

 

A look of genuine surprise crossed Freddie’s features. He was used to having a lot of sex that he couldn’t remember; it was the nature of getting too close to men and then getting so drunk that he blacked out. “That’s a first.” He hummed, threading his fingers through Jim’s and giving them a soft squeeze.

 

Jim sat up next to Freddie and brought him closer; Freddie lay back against his chest and Jim marvelled in the smoothness of the skin against his. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Freddie’s neck. “I wasn’t fucking around last night, you know? I mean it, angel, I’m not just going to take advantage of you.” A little smile crossed his face. “And I’d like you to at least remember our first time together.”

 

Freddie leaned his head back against Jim’s collar bone and looked at him properly, the first time doing so when sober. His eyes flickered to Jim’s lips and the other man caught his gaze. Jim smiled before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips; so chaste, so calm, a perfect compliment to the laziness of the morning sun.

 

When they finally pulled away, Jim wrinkled his nose. “You taste of stale wine.” He grinned playfully and ran a thumb over Freddie’s lower lip. 

 

“I need to go and freshen up. This is me at my worst.” Freddie chuckled and sat up again, stretching his arms above his head and shivering at the sensation. Jim took the time to notice the bumps of his spine at the base of his neck, the way he rolled his muscles and took his time before standing up.

 

Jim just watched as Freddie picked a discarded shirt off the floor; one of Jim’s for work, too big on him, the hemline brushing the very tops of his thighs. He left it hanging open around his torso but rolled the sleeves up. Jim smiled at the sight of him taking a moment in the sunshine before he turned around.

 

“Bathroom?” Freddie asked softly and Jim pointed over at a plain white door on the wall opposite. His heart jumped a little at the sight of Freddie in his clothes; it was a sight he wanted to see again and again and again.

 

Freddie grabbed his trousers from the bedroom floor and headed into the bathroom; he left the door open, an obvious indication that he wasn’t worried about privacy. Jim lay in the bed for a few minutes longer before he heard the sound of running water and finally convinced himself to stand.

 

He grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the floor and tied the waist haphazardly. He smiled at the sight of Freddie brushing his teeth at the sink, inspecting the marks over his neck in the mirror. How domestic he was, so comfortable with a house that wasn’t his, with a stranger he barely knew, was an inviting sight for Jim. Here he was, humming absentmindedly whilst brushing his teeth-

 

“Is that my toothbrush?” Jim asked him, leaning against the doorway with one shoulder. Freddie gave him a condescending look and rinsed his mouth out quickly, before folding the brush away.

 

“Travel toothbrush, darling. I’m a professional whore.” Jim laughed and moved forwards, wrapping his arms around Freddie from before and pressing another kiss to that spot on his neck that elicited the most beautiful sounds.

 

“Don’t call yourself that, angel.” He murmured; he watched the way that Freddie’s eyes fluttered when he nipped at the skin. “You’d only be a whore if there was another man in my bed right now.”

 

Freddie groaned a little and tilted his head to the side. “I’ve done that before.” He smirked, meeting Jim’s eyes in the mirror. A hand moved from his waist, ghosting over his thigh, and Freddie had to break himself from the trance. “I have to go to work, darling.”

 

Jim pressed another kiss to his skin, a little harder this time. “You’re the lead singer of the biggest band in the world. No one tells you that you’re late.”

 

The skin under his hand was unbelievably soft, and so smooth, as he ran a hand up Freddie’s chest. 

 

“C’mon, angel.” Freddie turned around and kissed him harder, a hand fisting in his hand momentarily. Jim kept him close when he pulled away again.

 

“I have to go.” Freddie’s voice was firmer, but still playfully, as though he were toying to see how hard Jim would work.

 

“I simply won’t allow it.” Jim’s lips ghosted over Freddie’s as the latter laughed.

 

“And you’re going to support me when they kick me out of the band?” He teased, pressing one final kiss to Jim’s lips before turning back to the mirror to run a makeup wipe over his face.

 

“You know I’ll look after you.” Jim’s voice was so sure, the hands back on his waist so firm, and Freddie couldn’t help but let him press back into Jim despite his better judgement. 

 

“Come and find me.” Freddie said softly. “After work, find me. You know where I’ll be.”


	4. Ginger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the first time that he'd really noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's only gone and got herself another chest infection! Currently trying to contend with not being able to breathe means that updates might not be as frequent or as good until I get better - sorry!

The company was dull, but the wine was good. Freddie wasn’t in the mood to get drunk that evening, and so he was still cradling the same glass of wine that he’d been bought at least half an hour ago. He couldn’t complain about the quality of the drink; it was Domaine Bachelet, fruity to taste, a note of peach rolling over the back of his tongue.

 

He took another sip, taking the time to let it sit on his palate before swallowing. There had been men fawning for his attention that evening, trying to engage him in conversation. He had eventually settled at the bar next to another man looking equally bored; a young guy, an intern at Abbey Road studios. Not his type in the slightest, but at least vaguely interesting.

 

He leaned over the bar, one elbow propping him up, the other hand covering the top of his glass. There was something soft about him that night, something in the hint of shadow that was sitting over his cheeks, something in the gentle movements of the silk shirt that he was wearing. He would’ve been anywhere else, had he not been waiting: lounging in the bath, out in the garden, playing scrabble on the floor of someone else’s house. 

 

A hand slapped his ass, and he turned his head immediately, cheeks flushing pink. Men were always like that, fuck first and get to know later, learn a name and maybe an address to follow up on the next time they were looking for a good fuck.

 

Before he could make eye contact with the man behind him, strong arms wrapped around his waist, and a soft kiss was pressed to his temple. 

 

Freddie wondered how he’d managed to memorise Jim’s smell already. He smelled fresh in a way that seemed impossible in a place like this; fresh air clung to his clothes, the stars clung to his smile, the moon herself clung to the sparkle in his eyes. He smelled of lemongrass, a faux rose that reminded Freddie of his sister’s shampoo, geranium and grapefruit from the dark musk of expensive cologne. 

 

Freddie lolled his head back against Jim’s collarbone, his face the picture of that morning, sleep-mussed and seeking a kiss. Jim laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, one hand coming to rest just under Freddie’s chin, two fingers propping his head up. Freddie made a little sound of satisfaction and kissed back slowly, resting his hands on the one that lay over his stomach. “Found you.” Jim murmured as he pulled away eventually.

 

Freddie turned around quickly, wrapping Jim in a hug and almost hiding his face in the other man’s chest. Jim chuckled again and ran his fingers through Freddie’s hair. “I wasn’t expecting this reception, angel. Did you have a bad day?”

 

He shook his head and Jim picked him up easily, sitting him up on the bar. “Use your words, angel. How come you’re like this?” He rested his hands on the outside of Freddie’s thighs.

 

Freddie wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck and smiled shyly. “I missed you.” He said softly. “I wouldn’t’ve come out, but I didn’t want to stand you up.”

 

Jim pressed a kiss to the end of his nose and smiled. “What would you be doing in an ideal world?” He asked softly, trailing his hands up Freddie’s body until they sat upon his hips. 

 

“I’d probably be in the bath.” Freddie grinned. “A lazy evening. Dinner, a couple of glasses of wine, a long bubble bath and an old movie before bed.”

 

“Sounds like a date.” He smiled when Freddie glanced up at him with a surprised expression. He pulled him in for a quick kiss. “Your place or mine?”

 

Freddie looked completely delighted. “Mine. I have the best jacuzzi jets in the world.”

 

* * *

 

The water was so warm around Jim’s shoulders, enveloping him in a hug that softened every muscle in his body. He wasn’t one to pamper himself like this, but he couldn’t resist those big, sad eyes that Freddie put on when he wanted something his own way. He sank lower among the bubbles, letting the jets massage the spots in his shoulders that always felt tight after a long day at work.

 

He glanced over at Freddie as he added a few drops of oil to the bath; the whole room filled with a subtle scent of ginger. Jim hummed in satisfaction and held his arms open for Freddie. He hummed softly as he joined him in the bath, settling against his chest so comfortably. 

 

“I can’t believe you wanted to do this.” Freddie said softly, tracing his oily fingers over the muscles of Jim’s chest. 

 

Jim hummed softly and rested a hand against his back. “Why wouldn’t I?” He grinned. “I’m into unconventional relationships.” Freddie laughed and looked up at him. Jim took a moment to trail his fingers over Freddie’s cheekbones, stopping to massage just beside his eye. His touch was so gentle, so loving, and between the careful movements, the hand resting on his back and the warmth of the water around him, Freddie felt as though he were melting. His eyes closed slowly and Jim smiled, gently massaging where he held tension in his jaw. Dark eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks and Jim couldn’t stop himself from pressing a careful kiss to his forehead. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured into the quiet between them.

 

Freddie’s eyes came open slowly and he leaned forward to kiss Jim properly. He could taste the ginger of the oil on Freddie’s lips, the scent complimenting the natural aphrodisiac of his personality. “Are you from outer space?” Freddie asked when they broke away. “Or are you some kind of delusion?”

 

“What do you mean, angel?” He asked softly. He loved the reaction that the nickname elicited, the soft blush that tinted the skin from the apples of his cheeks right down to his collar bones. He loved the way that Freddie listened for it, the way that it still seemed to surprise him every time he used it, the way that it seemed to knock conscious thought from his mind for a few moments,

 

“Men at Heaven don’t take me home and let me sleep in their beds and then hold my hand the whole way to Westminster.” He said softly. “They don’t get off the tube at the wrong stop to walk me to work.” He settled back against Jim’s chest; he could tell from that movement how tired Freddie was. “They don’t take baths with me and let me cover them in essential oils. You either have to be an alien or a figment of my imagination.”

 

Jim chuckled and combed his wet fingers through Freddie’s hair. “Things work out, angel.” He said softly. “I can’t even tell you the last time I went home with someone who wanted anything other than to push me out of the door after sex.”

 

He nodded slowly and let his eyes close. It was as though meeting Jim had cracked something in him; he realised how exhausting it was to trawl through the gay venues night after night, trying to impress people, trying to get people to take him home. It was daring, fun, when he could get dressed up and have people vying for his attention. 

 

It was exhausting when it was trying to remedy the loneliness of coming back to an empty home.

 

“Things work out.” Freddie repeated quietly, threading his fingers through Jim’s and squeezing his hand lightly.


	5. Silk Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie gets a little too riled at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally just pure porn honestly please unsubscribe from this story if you don't want to read explicit stuff because there's so much.

He heard a whistle as he walked into the dressing room and he rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Suzie.” He said immediately, glancing over at a grinning Kenny, but he couldn’t deny that he was pleased with the reaction to the new look. It was risque, more so than his other outfits, but it was paying its way in tips and interest. 

 

The black silk rope was knotted around one leg, biting into the skin. The harness cut into the skin of his torso, emphasising the muscles in his chest and shoulders. The armband, black studded leather, so often a feature of his left arm, now sat snugly over his right bicep; the muscle stood out around it when his arm flexed. The lipgloss on his lips was bright red, contrasting the darkness of the outfit, and a little smudged around the edges. He was the picture of debauchery. “Right arm?” Kenny asked immediately, slipping one finger under the band. “Have you got something to tell me, Mr. Mercury?”

 

Freddie smirked and combed his hair back in the mirror; so many people had touched it that it had begun to fluff up. “Darling, the twink act pays far better.” He purred. “So many people get off on the thought of tying me up. I might as well monopolise on it, don’t you think?”

 

Kenny grinned, tracing his fingers over the hem of the little black and white stripe popcorn shorts. “I don’t believe you. I think that it goes deeper than that. You’re a man of principles.” Freddie blushed ever so slightly and Kenny grinned triumphantly. He moved even closer, pressing into his personal space. “See. I think you’ve found yourself a big, burly bear to top you.”

 

Freddie shivered at the image. They’d never been intimate, but the thoughts of those fingers and that mouth had sent him over the edge many times, alone times with a hand around his cock or with one of those few toys in his collection. “Not so fast, darling.” He said voice breathy. “I haven’t gone that far with him yet.”

 

Kenny smirked and moved away. “But I’m not wrong, am I? You’re dressing yourself up like a tart in the hope that he’ll see.”

 

Freddie glanced at himself in the mirror and smirked. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”

 

“You want him to see other men touching you?” Kenny trailed a hand over the small of Freddie’s back. “You want to get him riled up so that he marks you up and makes you his?”

 

Freddie looked over his reflection in the mirror and imagined that hand on his back being bigger, being warmer, sliding down to his thigh and then inching higher and higher. “You’re pure sin.” He breathed. “You can’t get me going like this when you know damn well that he’s not here.”

 

Kenny chuckled, suddenly walking away. “Then you’ll have to go and find him, won’t you?”

  
  


Freddie had sought him immediately, walking the few streets between clubs to end up in Heaven. He’d shed the harness, but the armband was tight and the rope was still cutting into the skin of his thigh, constantly reminding Freddie of its presence as it dragged against the material of his tight jeans. He wore a heavy fur coat over his bare chest, the fabric brushing against his waist. 

 

He glanced around the room, looking hungrily at each person in turn, never breaking the eye contact that others made with him. He saw the outline of somebody in the back corner and started walking there immediately, tunneling in on the figure, his skin prickling with heat under the heaviness of the jacket-

 

Hands landed on his waist and pulled him back roughly into the front of another man. Freddie turned quickly, one hand balled into a preparatory fist, but Jim grinned at him from behind. “Where do you think you’re going, angel?” His grin turned into a smirk as Freddie lurched forward. He threw his arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, needing those hands over his body, needing to feel every inch of him.

 

“I need you.” Freddie muttered against his lips, rocking forwards and pushing Jim against the wall. “I was looking for you, daddy, love, please-” He murmured. Jim caught his hip easily in one hand, gripping tightly to the bone.

 

“Not so fast.” Jim grinned at the frustrated whine that Freddie let out, slipping a thigh in between his legs to give him something to rock against. He’d never seen someone so desperate in his life. “Where have you been tonight, angel? What’s gotten you so riled up?”

 

Freddie ground his hips against Jim’s thigh, dropping his head against his shoulder. A flush of humiliation rose over his face, knowing how obvious he was to everyone around them in the room, but it felt too good to consider moving away. “I was at home.” Freddie lied through his teeth. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, daddy.”

 

“What were you thinking about?” He gripped Freddie’s hair and tugged at it until he looked upwards; the rocking increased in pace and he squeezed Freddie’s ass to encourage him. “Answer me, angel.” His voice was firm, rich as liquid gold, and Freddie shivered. “What do you want?”

 

“You.” Freddie’s gasps were wrecked as one hand tweaked over a nipple. It was so shameful, getting off here against his thigh, but he couldn’t stop himself from seeking that friction so desperately-

 

Jim’s laugh broke him away from his thoughts. “I know you want me, angel, but how?” He tried to coax those words from Freddie’s mouth, enjoying how easy it was to tear him apart when he was like this.

 

Freddie rocked again with a whimper, his cock trapped painfully in his jeans. “I want to come on your cock.” He groaned into the skin at the base of Jim’s throat and pressed a hot kiss there. “I want you to take me apart on your fingers, daddy, make me come all pretty on two of your fingers, and then I want to ride you until my legs give out and you flip me over to give me exactly what I deserve.”

 

“And what do you deserve?” Jim could get off on the sound of Freddie’s voice like this alone, wrecked from the friction against his aching cock, begging desperately for more.

 

“Someone to hold me down and fuck me hard.” Freddie surged up to kiss him again, his hips moving almost frantically; Jim could tell he was close. “Someone to use me like the slut I am.”

 

Jim grabbed those hips hard to still them as those spots started to appear on his cheeks. Listening to Freddie talk like that was enough to break any man’s composure.

 

“Let’s go then, slut.” He breathed in Freddie’s ear as he let out a frustrated whimper. “I’m gonna make you see stars.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you're hyped for this! As always, drop me a comment or a message on tumblr @/immistermercury if you have anything to say!


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